


Polite Gauds

by Rhythyml



Category: Original Work
Genre: (just wolves and deer), Canon Compliant, Consumption of Glass, Gen, Mentions of bestiality, Narrator needs Gaud, Warning: Gaud, canon-typical creepiness, not venom/gaud fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 10:01:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16447712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhythyml/pseuds/Rhythyml
Summary: Gaud pays a visit.





	Polite Gauds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gaud](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Gaud).



> I wish I could say I didn't want to write this, but I did.  
> Inspired by @biggest-gaudiest-patronuses (why is the tag biggest-gaudiest patronuses??? i couldn't find it so i changed it to biggest-gaudiest-patronuses. set an example!) so if you somehow stumble upon this without the slightest inkling of who they are, you've received a sign. A sign to log into your old Tumblr account and find their blog.   
> ...Just kidding!   
> Their blog will find you.

When the bell rang, I was surprised.

It wasn’t exactly a time for errant bell-ringing – a quick check of my phone’s clock confirmed that. It was late enough that the crickets were making a cacophony outside my house, and the moon hung in the sky, charmingly full.

Having thought that, my first thought was that perhaps a prankster had rung the bell, or a stray branch had leant against it. It wouldn’t be the first time. My window did not face the road, and there was no way I was going to leave the warmth of the comforter at…2:37AM. Yep.

So I turned on my side, burying my face into the pillow. For all of two minutes, I dozed quietly, before a sharp sound cracked through the air. 

I jolted, suddenly awake. It was no by-product of my dream. The noise came again and again as I sat upright in bed, so quickly my head swam. I had never heard a knock so angry and urgent before. 

I had never heard someone knock on my door before.

My bell was on my gate, and I locked it always.

I kicked aside the blankets, regretting the loss of warmth immediately. I thrust my legs through a pair of shorts and ran downstairs. No way to check the front door from upstairs – I had locked the unused rooms and put the key in some unknowable spot. I cursed myself as every bit of pressure on the stairs caused them to groan horrifically, surely alerting everybody and their mother to my arrival. Fear slithered up my spine. As far as I knew I had just confirmed my presence to a gang of robbers. 

I scooped up a can of mace and stuffed it and my phone in my pockets. I wasn’t going to be that guy.

I navigated the furniture in the living room, hopping up on a chair so I could draw the curtains aside slightly and put my eye to the window. Maybe I could catch a glimpse of this late-night visitor. Though I wasn’t sure if visitor was the word I would use to describe this mad hatter, who had apparently gotten through my gate. Coherent thoughts were not my forte even with eight hours of sleep.

Nothing. I widened my eyes, willing the faint glow of the moon to let me see. Pressed my face as far as I could against the glass without breaking my cheekbones. I held my stance, long enough that my breath misted up the window. 

But there was no one there. No robbers, unless they were doing a mighty fine job of hiding against the white drywall. Just my empty porch, surrounded by vibrant flowers. Yet the night felt strangely thick, full with a pressure like…a presence. It was like the feeling of stuffing pudding into your cheeks until they bulged, or someone pushing down on your skull. 

I looked for the gate. My eyes hurt with the effort of pinpointing black against darker black. After a few seconds, though, I was fairly sure that my gate was locked. 

The chill settled into my bones, the darkness forming leaping shadows. I wished I had turned on the light. I wished I could rewind the night. The world was strangely silent, as if holding their breath. When I listened, I realized why. 

The crickets had stopped singing.

My knees wobbled, and I collapsed back on my ankles.

Knock, called the door. The sound was no longer the booming, staccato blows of before. 

Knock! It said pleadingly.

Knock-knock-knock? It asked, with all the certainty of one who knows someone is there to let them in.

“Go away,” I mouthed, holding my breath alongside the world. My breath hissed out between my teeth.

I had never been a particularly sensible person. My first memory of life was triumphantly shoving the car door open, hearing an alarmed shriek as my mother grabbed me by the shirt to prevent me from hurling myself into the road. I had known the cars were zipping by in blurs, but I hadn’t cared. I only wanted to discover where a new thing led.

I had never been a particularly sensible person, and so I got off the chair. Went around three chairs towards the door. The pressure increased as I did. 

My phone and mace were with me, I reassured myself. I had two doors between whoever was on the other side and myself. I could just open the solid one and talk through the bars of the second. Good luck to any attacker trying to stab me through those.

My attempt at reassuring myself failed. I felt a bit dizzy. My palms sweated.

Standing face-to-face with the door sealed the deal. My hands slipped once or twice over the worn brass lock. Every instinct I had revolted and attempted to prematurely file their retirement plans from this body, who was clearly too dumb to live.

The knocks tapered off the moment I swung the door open. And despite first glance, there certainly was someone there.

And it was not a human. I knew this knowledge at once, the same way one knew how to breath or doggy-paddle in water.

I knew. I just did. 

I knew that this being stood almost as tall as my door, back bent forward slightly. They were shaped somewhat like a human. And that was where the similarities ended, if they had even started at all. For the head did not seem like a head at all, but more like someone had crudely molded clay into the vague shape of a cube, then doused it with pink paint and picked one side to distort into a childish face. Reddish-orange eyes gleamed, drowning in a sea of tar. I was entranced by the bubbles that briefly swelled, stretching the surface of their gooey, membranous skin before settling down. 

I couldn’t help myself. I lowered my gaze. The blocky head was supported by an absurdly thin neck. As I stared, it wobbled tauntingly, defying physics. 

I quickly moved on. 

And I saw something even more horrific.

“Gaud…” I whispered, feeling shame clog my throat. It seemed oddly personal, yet I had to ask. “Are you…are you…"

"...wearing fishnet stockings?”

The pressure eased slightly. A coin tumbled from the gaping, rubbery mouth. “I was coming home,” the deity wheezed. “From a party. And then I decided to pay a visit to one of you gremlins. Don’t judge Gaud’s lifestyle choices.”

I bobbed my head, deciding not to mention the corset. Or ask what sort of party, exactly, Gaud had been returning from. 

“This is about the deerfucking comment, isn’t it?” I said. Despite myself, I grinned. If nothing else, my identity would be absorbed content. 

The lightbulb above Gaud’s head flickered electric pink then shattered, spraying glass everywhere. Without a single glance upwards, they snatched a piece out of the air and chomped down.

“Yes. That.” Gaud croaked flatly. They levelled me with the most exasperated look they could muster. For a creature with burning orange sclerae, it was a decent effort. “Gremlin. I am kinkshaming you.”

“What?” I gasped indignantly. I folded my arms. “But you fucked – sorry, fuck – werewolves. So many of them. This is not fair.”

Gaud turned on its six-inch heel, majestically snacking on more glass. “I am dedicated to my hairy howling honey.” They told me, sounding affronted. 

And just like that, they were gone. I stood there for a moment, before I shrugged and went to check on the gate. Might as well make sure it was really locked.

It was.

**Author's Note:**

> Descriptive writing prompt: you open the door to a surprise visitor. Describe the visitor and your thoughts and feelings when they first begin to speak. 
> 
> In the day after, when watering your plants, you find a coin. It is small and golden. You bring it closer.
> 
> Raised slightly on both sides is the image of Gaud, with the words 'Choose your Requiem' and 'Eat The Rich' written underneath their portrait. The width of the coin is thicker than it should be. You scrape a fingernail over it, finding little irregular indents. Curious, you tilt the coin.
> 
> @biggest-gaudiest-patronus is engraved in miniscule Comic Sans.
> 
> You smile. You will pass it on.  
> \---  
> hey hey gaud are you proud of me yet


End file.
